


Promise You'll Write

by MKittyUltra, PollyMajor_AKA_ughvengersassemble



Series: Promise You'll Write [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: WW2 AU, going to war au, human!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 13:56:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2272314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MKittyUltra/pseuds/MKittyUltra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PollyMajor_AKA_ughvengersassemble/pseuds/PollyMajor_AKA_ughvengersassemble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally written as a tumblr drabble request for an anon, this story is a 'going to war au'!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promise You'll Write

Cas sits on the edge of the bed and closes his eyes. It’s quiet in the flat, the smell of bread wafting up to him from the bakery they live above. He wants to curl back into the sheets, thumb through the pages of his favorite book until Dean wanders in looking for him. He wants to wind into him on the mattress, feet hooked onto feet, hands entwining hands, until they are more one person than two. Its a frozen moment where Cas can practically feel it; the bed on his bare skin, Dean’s touches echoing his,   
  


"I don’t want you to go," Dean’s voice cuts through Cas’ vividly imagine scene, and he resents that so he presses his eyes tighter shut instead of opening them to see him there, in the doorway, where he’s been for an hour watching Cas just sit, in silence, and waits. He’s not sure he can do anything else. It feels as though if he just sits there, and doesn’t move, he can will time and the world around him to stop too. He doesn’t answer Dean - how could he? What was Dean expecting him to say to that statement, what has he been expecting him to say to it all the other times he’s said it? Of course Dean doesn’t want him to go. Its not as though this is voluntary.

"We could run away," Dean suggests. The words rip through Cas like lighting through a tree and he gasps. Outside, someone rings the bell of their bike and the sound rings sweet through the room. There are quiet voices on the breeze, people moving and going about their day, talking about tomatoes and the weather and inevitably the war, how the nice boy from the library was off to fight the Nazis, how it seems wrong to send off all these young men that way.

"You’ll write, right?" Dean asks quietly, much closer than before. Cas can feel the warmth coming off him. The mattress dips and it’s springs creak at Dean sits beside him. 

"Of course I’ll write," Cas whispers. Dean sighs and the comfortable weight of his head presses onto Cas’ shoulder.

"Don’t go falling for some army dude," Dean warns. Cas chuckles weakly and brushes the back of his hand across his cheeks - he’d thought he’d cried himself out but clearly that wasn’t the case. He turns to press his lips to Dean’s forehead, but blindly misses and instead plants a kiss on the bridge of Dean’s nose. "Hey, I’m serious," Dean continues. "I’ll be right here waiting."

"I’d like to think you won’t be  _right_  here - I think I’ll probably be a while and you’d probably starve to death and then you’ll be no good to anyone,” Cas points out, finally opening his eyes. Dean moves so that he’s facing him, and Cas takes a moment to study his face, the quirked corners of his lips as he smiles, the creases at the corners of his hazel-flecked green eyes.

"Come back, alright?" Dean says, seriously, the smile gone in a blink.

"I will," Cas promises.


End file.
